Slipped Away
by SiriusMarauderFan
Summary: Rose's premonitions aren't always a good thing. Sometimes they lead to the worst place imaginable. one shot.


**Author's Note: **Written for…

Next Gen Comp. _Prompt:_ Rose loses a loved one.

**Slipped Away**

Rose was widely believed to be the psychic of the family. It had yet to be proven, and her poor marks in the two months she attended Divination certainly didn't reflect it, but there was no other way to explain her uncanny ability to know things she had no way of knowing.

When she was four and Hugo had gone missing, Rose had been the one to find him curled up in Crookshanks' cat condo. At seven she backed her father up when he decided to leave the Ministry, before he'd made it public. She won a bet on when Victoire and Teddy would finally get married, and she accurately guessed that Freddy's girlfriend was cheating on him when the girl still had everyone fooled.

Her track record was what worried her so much when she woke early on a Saturday morning in tears from a nightmare she couldn't remember, and a knot in her stomach that she couldn't get rid of no matter how she tried. It wasn't even light out when she curled up in the common room and spent some time staring into the flames, trying to determine what was wrong. She was tempted to sneak into her brother and cousins' dorms to check on them, but that wouldn't even cover a quarter of the family, so she decided to wait a little while.

"It's not the first time you've been wrong," Hugo reminded her when he woke up an hour later. "Remember the exam?"

"That was three years ago. And I admit, it doesn't work so well on schoolwork, but you can't deny that I'm almost always right with everything else." He shrugged, Rose shook her head. "Something's wrong."

She didn't go down to breakfast with everyone. She didn't think she could eat anything with her stomach so upset, and she was afraid she'd snap at the first person who tried to talk to her.

"Rose?"

She startled a bit, lost in her thoughts. She turned to glare at whoever had interrupted her, but softened the look a bit when she found her head of house standing over her.

"Are you alright?" Neville asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Just tired. I didn't sleep well," she answered truthfully. "Don't tell me you came all the way up here because I didn't go to breakfast."

"Um, no." He removed his hand quickly, straightening. Rose recognized this as his transition from Uncle Neville to Professor Longbottom. "Professor McGonagall wants to see you in her office. She didn't tell me what for."

Rose didn't bother getting dressed. Both professors had seen her in worse than a tank top and pajama bottoms. And it was the weekend anyway – half of the upper years wore animal slippers to breakfast.

Neville walked her to the office, and Rose could feel his eyes on her the entire way. If she didn't know any better, she'd think Hugo had informed the professor of her mood. Despite Rose's loud personality and her capabilities in taking care of everyone around her, Hugo did a pretty good job of looking out for his big sister.

She tried to focus on what McGonagall could be calling on her about. Maybe it was her bad grade in Transfiguration – which her mum would surely berate her for later. Or perhaps it was about the foul during the previous weekend's match against Slytherin. McGonagall could be just as passionate about Quidditch as Rose's dad and Aunt Ginny.

Surprisingly, the headmistress wasn't even in her office when Rose arrived. Instead, her parents were pacing the room, apparently waiting for her.

"What are you doing here?" Rose asked, hugging them both. She tried to smile for them and pretend to be happy to see them, but inside her stomach was twisting tighter and she thought she might vomit. It was April, two months from the end of school year, and her parents never came to visit out of the blue like this.

Neither answered for a moment, and it gave the sixteen-year-old a chance to come to her own conclusions. Both of her parents looked exhausted. Their eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. Her dad didn't otherwise seem out of sorts; he was wearing his usual shirt and jeans that he could be found in any other day of the week, but her mum was a different story. She never would have left the house in wrinkled clothes and a loose pony-tail.

"We have some bad news, Sweetheart," her mum started.

"No kidding." She regretted the comment as soon as it left her lips, but it was all shaping up to be a more horrible day than she'd thought.

"Rosie, don't," her dad said, but it was devoid of all the force and emotion he usually used when reprimanding her.

Her mum continued as if nothing had happened.

"We've been at the hospital all night. You know how your granddad's been ill recently…"

And she did. Rose remembered visiting the Burrow for the last time during the summer, and how Arthur had complained about being breathless and tired. Apparently his health hadn't been improving, because by Christmas he was taking some time off work and Molly was yapping at him to sit down every time he attempted to go get himself a cup of tea.

"Last week he got a really bad cough, and your Gran finally took him to the hospital. It was Twigg's Disease."

"That's curable, isn't it?" Rose asked hopefully. Maybe her bad feelings were because Granddad had been so ill, or maybe she was going to fall of her broom at the next practice.

"Normally, yes. But Granddad had been sick for months, sweetie, and with his age … there was only so much the healers could do for him."

Rose nodded slowly. She glanced at her father just long enough to notice he was crying and then turned away.

It wasn't her first loss; her Nana had died when she was thirteen, but that had been stupid and senseless – a car accident. This was preventable, but everyone in her family was so bloody stubborn. It was a wonder any of them had survived so long.

"Rose, sweetie, are you alright?" her mum asked quietly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Rose couldn't answer for fear she'd break down. She really didn't want to do that to her dad. She nodded instead, taking in deep breaths and trying not to think about her granddad.

"I know how close you and your Granddad were, that's why we wanted to tell you first…"

Well, it was impossible not to think about him now; about how he'd always been so interested in the muggle toys she'd bring with her whenever she visited, and how he'd made her feel so proud to belong in two worlds. It was Arthur that gave her the confidence to brag about going to a football match with her family, or tell all her friends about the television shows she watched. He was always her best friend, and she wasn't sure what to do without him now.

She more she thought about him, the more she felt the knot in her stomach begin to slip away and she could breathe again without fear of crying.

She turned to her dad, who was trying desperately to compose himself, and slipped her arms around him.

It would not be okay for a long time, but they would get there eventually.


End file.
